


a bird in the hand is worth a bird in a cage

by coffeewordangel



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mild D/s, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 04:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeewordangel/pseuds/coffeewordangel
Summary: Liam is everything Zayn needs.





	a bird in the hand is worth a bird in a cage

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bird in a Cage by Old 97s.

-u should come over…

Zayn hasn’t even been back in LA for 3 hours yet when the message pops up. In reality, he probably shouldn’t. There are responsibilities and phone calls and appointments to make but he’s already messaging his driver and anticipation makes his hands tremble. It’s been too long.

The back entrance of the ostentatious house he’s dropped off at is completely hidden from the street and entirely too familiar. Every time he comes here, it feels like he’s risking more. They’ve hooked up in New York and London and once in Milan, but LA feels extra dangerous somehow.

Zayn has barely shut the door before he’s greeted by plush lips and large, warm hands cradling his spine. All the tension that’s been holding him together for the last couple months rushes out of him, leaving him pliant and grateful. Always grateful.

“You made it,” Liam murmurs between kisses. “Good boy.”

Two words and Zayn is there. His knees bend without his permission, dropping him on the carpeted entryway in front of Liam. The outline of Liam’s dick through his sweats is tempting, but Zayn knows better than to just go for it. Instead he looks up and waits, shaking with how much he wants. 

Liam’s gaze is fond. He reaches down and cups Zayn’s jaw, pressing a thick thumb to his lower lip. “Already, baby? You’ve been wound up for too long. I’m sorry.”

In between, multiple time zones away, Zayn pretends. He imagines the press of Liam’s hands holding his wrists down and Liam’s voice like velvet in his ear. It’s never the same, but it keeps him sane. He’s never told Liam about it. This is supposed to be a safe space to explore their predilections with someone who has just as much to lose if it ever came to light. It’s for fun. It’s not supposed to be everything.

Anxious to get this show on the road so he can stop thinking entirely, Zayn draws Liam’s thumb into his mouth and sucks slowly. He traces the whorls with his tongue and savors the slight hint of salt bursting across his taste buds.

“Did I tell you to do that?” Liam asks with an arched brow.

Zayn whimpers and draws back, mouth watering and empty. “No, sir.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Liam smiles gently. “I forgive you. It’s been a while. Hands behind your back and keep them there.”

Zayn widens his stance and clasps his wrists behind his back, already feeling the pull between his shoulders. His muscles are out of practice. He’s going to feel everything for days and he can’t wait.

“You’re so good,” Liam praises, slowly drawing the waistband of his sweats down over his erection to sit around his thighs. He fists himself a couple times, watching the desperation play across Zayn’s face. 

Zayn’s mouth drops open in anticipation. He doesn’t have to wait long. Liam slides the tip through his lips and Zayn moans deeply. He’s missed this so much. Liam’s dick is perfect and he wants to worship it, wants it so deep he’s choking on the length, but he’ll take what he’s given and savor it. His eyes drop closed in ecstasy and Liam pulls back, drawing an unhappy whine from Zayn.

“Eyes open, baby. I need to see you, need your pretty eyes on me.”

Zayn huffs in irritation at himself. He knows that. He knows the rules. 

“Shh,” Liam hushes, “we haven’t even started.”

Zayn nods. Liam’s being generous, but if Zayn pushes the boundaries much more he probably won’t be allowed to come later. The very thought makes him want to weep. He’s been jacking off alone for way too long and it doesn’t come close to what Liam can do to him. 

Liam slides back into Zayn’s mouth, a little deeper this time, head pressing thick against the soft palate. Zayn resists the urge to shove forward, to bury his nose in the neatly trimmed hair at Liam’s groin. Instead he sucks gently, tongue playing over the prominent vein that throbs at his attentions, never taking his eyes off Liam.

“Look at you,” Liam says softly. “So beautiful. Do you want more, love?”

It’s a ridiculous question. Zayn always wants more, wants anything Liam will give him. He hums enthusiastically. Liam flashes him a filthy grin and slides the rest of the way, impossibly thick down Zayn’s throat and heavy on his tongue. The lack of air makes tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

Liam reaches down to twine his fingers in Zayn’s hair, tight enough to hurt just right. He pulls Zayn back far enough to catch his breath before pushing him forward again. He sets up a rhythm that feels precise as a metronome. Zayn’s vision blurs and he loses himself in Liam’s hands, Liam’s heated gaze the only thing keeping him from falling apart at the seams. 

“Come when I do,” Liam orders huskily. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

Yes, Zayn can do that. Zayn could probably come from Liam looking at him the right way. He’s been on edge ever since he got the text and is wishing he’d changed into something more comfortable than his jeans. He can tell Liam is close, rhythm getting slightly less steady, grip getting just a bit tighter. His own need unravels him, hips shifting restlessly against the press of denim and cotton.

Liam comes hard down Zayn’s throat and sets off a cascading reaction in Zayn. It’s so hard to keep his eyes open, but Liam’s lust blown gaze has him arrested. He calls Zayn beautiful, but Liam is heartbreakingly gorgeous like this with his flushed cheeks and chest, his soft brown eyes mostly pupil. 

Zayn’s throat feels pleasantly raw when Liam retreats. He stays in position while Liam disappears into the kitchen. His shoulders burn and he sinks into it. Liam returns with a glass of water and a straw. He kneels next to Zayn and holds it up for him to drink.

“Thank you,” Zayn rasps, drinking deeply.

Liam runs a gentle finger down Zayn’s neck. “Such a good boy,” Liam murmurs. “I always feel guilty wrecking your voice, but you’re so good.”

Zayn arches into the touch. As always, Liam’s praise soothes something deep within him, something dark and raging that needs this to settle. 

“You can relax,” Liam informs him, rubbing his shoulders lightly. 

“Thank you,” Zayn repeats.

Liam gathers him against his broad chest and stands up. He helps Zayn toward the bedroom and onto the edge of the giant mattress. Zayn’s shirt gets tugged over his head and placed on a chair. Liam traces the latest tattoo with a curious finger. 

“I saw pictures online, but this is sick,” dom Liam slips and lets regular Liam through and Zayn finds it hopelessly endearing.

He grins up at Liam. “Are we done already?”

Liam’s eyes narrow. “Not even close and you know it.”

“Was hoping,” Zayn says, too breathless for flippancy. He drops back onto the mattress. “What else did you see while you were stalking me online?”

He doubts Liam was doing anything of the sort. That’s really more a thing Zayn does, but he’s given up trying to stop. Even a staged pap shot is better than nothing. He simply can’t go weeks at a time without a glimpse of Liam.

Liam looms over him, clever fingers divesting Zayn of his jeans. “Saw that photo shoot you did. Looked like a model, all broody and lovely. Wanted to bend you over that table and make you scream.”

Zayn shivers. “Yes,” he grates.

“Saw that one with your girlfriend, too,” Liam whispers darkly against the curve of Zayn’s ear. “That one made me want to fuck you in front of her, show her what I do to you, make her hear what you sound like with my dick up your arse.”

She’s not his real girlfriend and Liam knows it, but it doesn’t matter right now. They’re back in the game and this is designed solely to make Zayn crazy. Liam is propped up over him, close enough to feel the heat of his body but not touching an inch of Zayn’s skin. 

“Please,” Zayn whimpers.

“Please what, pretty?” Liam drawls.

“Please touch me,” he begs. “I missed you.”

It slides out of his mouth before he can stop it. Liam won’t hold it against him. One of their rules is that nothing said within the confines of a scene means anything outside of it. Zayn tries not to take advantage of that. He can’t. Otherwise he’d be offering up all of his secrets under the guise of playing a scene and the thought makes him ill. 

Liam smiles slow and sweet. “Missed you too, baby. No one else is as good as you.”

Jealousy churns in Zayn’s chest and he tamps it down viciously. Liam is not his and if he can’t get his emotions in check he’s going to ruin everything and then where will he be? Tense and miserable and at loose ends like he was before Liam wandered into his studio a year and a half ago. 

Liam slowly lowers his body onto Zayn’s, warm skin sliding luxuriously against him. He sinks his teeth into the junction of Zayn’s neck and shoulder, drawing a soft moan from Zayn’s lips. This is everything he wants forever and he’ll fight himself to keep it.

“Want to taste you, sweetheart,” Liam rasps against his neck, rolling them over so Zayn is on top. “Come up here.”

Zayn lets Liam maneuver him until he’s hovering over Liam’s mouth, hands braced against the wall. Liam smirks up at him and leans up to lick a hot stripe from his balls to his ass. Zayn shudders, dick starting to firm back up. 

“Don’t come,” Liam orders before pulling him down and taking him apart piece by piece.

All Zayn can do is moan and try not to writhe. Liam’s tongue feels gorgeous, sleek and hot and insistent. His hands are wrapped around Zayn’s thighs, gripped tight enough to leave the fingertip bruises Zayn cherishes afterward. If it weren’t for the wall, Zayn’s pretty sure he wouldn’t still be upright. 

He loses track of time, The world is reduced to Liam’s mouth against him, in him. Liam’s hands move to spread him further and Zayn cries out, babbling incoherently. He wants more, needs Liam deeper and finally Liam slides a finger alongside his tongue. Zayn wants badly to push against it but he hasn’t been told he can, can’t pursue his own pleasure. He’s turned himself over to Liam’s capable hands.

One finger becomes two, becomes three and four when the lube gets involved. Zayn is shaking, micro muscle twitches, keeping himself in place and not pushing back into the pressure the way he wants. It’s a slow, sweet torture that drives thoughts of everything else from his head. It’s exactly what he needs. 

Liam wriggles out from under him and presses a steadying hand between Zayn’s shoulder blades. “Look at you,” he murmurs, dropping kisses down Zayn’s spine, sweet like warmed honey. “You’re perfect.”

Behind him, Zayn can hear Liam putting on a condom. He feels like need wrapped in a thin layer of overheated flesh, quivering and desperate. Liam doesn’t give him time to adjust, shoves home in one smooth thrust, punching a cry from Zayn’s throat and leaving him scrabbling against the plaster.

Liam’s hands come up to press his wrists firmly down. “Stay,” he growls. 

Zayn pushes his fingertips against the wall so hard they turn white and waits. Liam sets a brutal pace, leaving no room for anything but physical sensation overwhelming him. His hands burn into Zayn’s hips and every thrust pulls a helpless moan from his abused vocal chords. 

Liam’s voice has dipped into a deep rasp, showering praise in sweet words that Zayn’s brain can’t interpret. All the same, the tone drenches him in pleasure, spirals him closer to orgasm. Liam’s words feel like a physical caress.

“Come when you want, baby,” Liam says.

It’s a gift, a testament to how long it’s been for both of them. Next time Liam will most likely require him to hold back, to shove at the edges of his self control, but not this time. Zayn is unbearably grateful to him, is probably babbling incoherently about it. He allows the heat to overwhelm him, to incrementally shove him higher until he’s coming hard against the wall. Liam is right behind him, shoving one last time with a deep groan.

The world is soft focus when Liam pulls out and arranges Zayn gently against the pillows. He tilts Zayn’s head up to sip at a water bottle and soothes Zayn’s trembling limbs with firm, smooth caresses. Slowly things become clearer, reality putting itself back together piece by piece. 

“Hey there,” Liam greets with a grin, the kind that makes him look ten years younger and sweeter. 

“Hey,” Zayn croaks. He feels heavy, weighed down after floating for so long. 

Liam presses a soft kiss to Zayn’s bruised lips. “Thank you.”

He always does this, thanks Zayn like he’s done him a favor or something, like Zayn isn’t the one reaping all the benefits. Zayn’s lips twist in an emotion he can’t quite name and something dark and complicated twists in his gut. He chooses not to explore it. Probably ever.

“You’re welcome,” he replies.

“You want a shower?” Liam asks, bringing Zayn’s fingers up to his lips and kissing the tip of each one individually.

“Later.” Zayn wants to keep Liam on his skin for as long as he can. 

“You good to stand?”

Zayn flexes his legs experimentally. “Maybe?”

Liam laughs, his eyes fucking _sparkling_. “Yeah, me too. In a bit you wanna see what I’ve been working on? I can order in.”

Zayn shouldn’t. He should set up some boundaries, but part of his problem is that he can’t help but consider Liam a friend. Their edges slot together so perfectly in and out of bed, like a puzzle piece he didn’t even know he was missing until Liam showed up with his boyish smile and warm, safe hands. It’s got him ten kinds of fucked up.

“Yeah, alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know if I'll continue this. I have a second part started but omg you guys Zayn is so saaaaad. He's a total mess. And for all his intuition, Liam is pretty oblivious. And it would drag out for a while and I'm not so great at dragging it out lol. 
> 
> Anyway. Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/empty-altars).


End file.
